


scorpio drums

by skatzaa



Category: The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gen, Puck POV, The Scorpio Races Festival, Tiny Canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Two great decisions battle inside me for a moment—go up front, past Gabe and Tommy Falk and the staring men to where Brian Carroll maybe still waits. Or slide out the back door into the alley to lick my wounds and bide my time until the riders’ parade. (p175-176)
Puck goes back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know anymore, you guys. This little thing occurred to me when reading the festival scenes, but I only just finished it because of school obligations.

I consider the back door for a long minute, desperate to just leave, but the thought of leaving Brian Carroll behind when he has been so kind to me tonight makes my stomach churn with shame. 

Though all I want is to go home and curl up in one of Dad’s old blankets, I leave the back door behind. 

Brian Carroll is indeed waiting for me by the front. He’s talking with one of the fishermen, but his expression is blank and maybe impatient, though it's hard to tell. When he sees me, Brian runs a hand through his dark hair and shakes off the fisherman. The closer he gets, the taller he seems to grow, and by the time he’s next to me, he is once more a giant. 

Brian places a hand lightly on my shoulder and steers us from the pub. Over the sound of the drums, which grows closer as we walk, he asks, “how did it go?” 

I meet his eyes and whatever he sees has him shaking his head, his mouth tight. I look away from him, because I’m not sure what my expression is like, but I know I don’t want Brian Carroll seeing it. 

Something catches my eye. It takes me a moment to focus my gaze on stillness instead of movement, but when I manage it I see Sean Kendrick across the street. His head is down, but he still slides through the crowd in a way I have yet to manage. I consider going over to him, though I don’t know what I’ll say, but before I can move Brian takes my elbow and draws me back. 

I look up at him and he motions down the street to where a group of men with large drums have appeared. As they march down the street people move out of their way, which means we all end up pressed against each other and the front of the buildings. My shoulder is probably digging uncomfortably into Brian’s arm, but he doesn’t mention it. 

We watch the drummers pass. I’m intrigued by them until I realize the spots on the drumheads are actually dried blood. Queasy, I look away. 

Sean Kendrick looks back. 

We stay that way for a long moment, the beat of the drums replacing my pulse, and then someone steps between us, blocking my view. 

It is a woman with the head of a horse, ethereal and barefoot and terrifying—the mare goddess. She is dripping blood from her hands and clothes; I am suddenly glad Finn is not here with me. 

If the mare goddess speaks at all to Sean, they are too far away and the crowd is too loud for me to hear any of it. Beside me, Brian is as stoic as always, but I shift anyway, because I don’t want to hurt his arm. 

I move enough to regain sight of Sean. The mare goddess holds him by the chin; there is blood on his skin. He looks past her great head and meets my eyes once more. 

The mare goddess turns. Her head is terrible and huge upon her slight shoulders. Her eyes seem as though they are looking up more than forward, but there is no denying she is facing me. 

I am frozen next to Brian Carroll’s solid side as she crosses the street. It feels as though all of Thisby watches as the mare goddess seizes my chin, just as she did with Sean. 

“Kate Connolly,” she says. Her voice sounds like hooves on loose stones. I think I feel her exhale against my face, but it must be my imagination. “The island knows your name.” 

I hold my breath, because the smell of blood coming from her hands is cloying. I try not to think of my parents, of how disappointed Dad would be if he could see me here, face to face with a pagan idol and not afraid. Well, not just afraid. 

The mare goddess releases my chin. She holds my face in both hands, almost as a mother might, but her thumbs press hard into my cheeks. I try not to gag as the smell of blood overwhelms me. She says, “make a wish, Kate Connolly.” 

Then she releases my face and continues walking, following the deep pounding of the drums toward the center of town. 

Beside me, Brian Carroll makes a low noise, one I can’t decipher. I look up. His eyes are wide and unfamiliar when he sees my face, and it takes me a moment to understand it’s because he’s afraid of however the mare goddess has made me appear. 

I realize there is blood on my face and look away, because someone as solid and dependable as Brian Carroll should not be afraid of someone like me. 

Sean Kendrick looks back, blood on his chin and the streetlights reflected in his eyes. 

I know what I want, but I’m not sure if it is what I should wish for. 

Sean slips through the crowd, away from where I stand with Brian. I try not to stare after him, but I don’t succeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I don't think this would change anything in the book, except Puck would look even more fearsome up on that sacrificial rock, and everyone needs more ferocious Puck in their lives.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Read On,  
> Skats


End file.
